Aftertaste
by catastic
Summary: Hermione's thought on the Last Battle, it doesn't go how you'd think!


Disclaimer: I own none of it.  
  
A/N: Okay, I'm reposting this, which I know can be annoying but I I wanted to modify it a bit, but sure what's the point if no one's gonna read it?!  
  
There are certain things in this life one can never predict, or get over. To lose a loved one is a hell one hopes will never happen to them, but to lose a loved one that did not even know how you felt is a hell one would not even wish on her worst enemy.  
  
I still remember the day when my best friend and the love of my life left me. They were gone within minutes of each other, not even stopping to say goodbye. I cannot remember much; only the faint rambling of one of the two men I had believed would never leave me.  
  
That morning was peaceful enough, three of us bathing in the morning sun, looking forward to our graduation and discussing moving into our first flat together. I look back on this morning now with such contempt for the three, naive innocents lying by the lake believing they were invincible.  
  
Hagrid was the first to go in the attack Voldemort had been planning for months, right under the brave Gryffindor Three's noses. Oh, we thought we were being vigilant, looking out for unfamiliar faces, teaching ourselves combat spells. How were we to know that while we thought Malfoy was untrustworthy, Snape had been going behind our backs and informing the Dark Lord of everything that was happening within the walls of the castle that we believed to be the one safe haven left in an otherwise cruel and deeply dangerous world?  
  
We ran to the castle together, panting with exhaustion and fear as we reached the top steps. In an instant, we were surrounded by Death Eaters who disarmed us and dragged us to the Great Hall, where all the Voldemort supporters did not bother to wear their masks, so sure were they of their victory.  
  
I heard Voldemort utter two spells that day, two spells that would haunt me for the rest of my life. When I saw the Great Hall, I knew at once that this was the day I would die. I looked at Ron who was pale under his freckles but had a look of utter determination in his eyes, and I knew then that I loved him. I loved him for everything he was and for everything I would never see him become.  
  
I was tied to a chair and Harry was given back his wand. The three of us were encased in a golden sphere. Magic could not be used to get out, we were informed, but it could be used within the bubble and spells could be thrown in from outside.  
  
Voldemort turned to Harry and without wasting and time, put him under the imperious curse.  
  
Ron looked at me. "Hermione" he started. The love in his eyes almost blinded me. All pretence of apathy was gone; all could see was raw emotion etched onto his beautiful face. "I should have told you this long ago, I love you. You're in my every waking thought, my every dream. I feel as if I was only born to love you, and without that my life has no meaning. If we are separated now, I want you to know that we will be together soon, I will come for you."  
  
Before I could tell him that I loved him too -although that was a very weak way of putting it. It was much more than that. It was raw, savage emotion that lived in the pit of my stomach, almost primal- Voldemort performed the killing curse and he dropped to the ground, eyes glazed.  
  
I let out a scream that must have made the birds in the trees chill to the bone. Voldemort then turned to Harry. "I have decided to let you live. But on one condition, you will kill the mudblood in the chair. That is not a choice by the way; lets remember that I have you under the imperious curse. With that he gave Harry his orders "kill the mudblood."  
  
Harry looked at me with such pain in his eyes that I thought my heart would break. I told him that it wasn't his fault, that I understood and closed my eyes to wait for darkness to come. After a few minutes, when nothing came, I opened my eyes. Harry seemed to be struggling with his wand, the Death Eaters all around us chanting for him to do it.  
  
What happened next, I will never forget. Harry somehow fought the imperious curse just enough to point the wand on himself and scream "Avada Kedavra!" Harry slumped onto the ground just as Ron did, and with that I felt a change in me, a sense of power surging through me like never before.  
  
I never knew I had a talent for wandless magic, and the next few minutes were a blur. I blasted through the force field, and made my way to Voldemort, not caring how many Death eaters I threw against the wall with a flick of my hand. I got to Voldemort and knew that I was going to kill him by hand. Harry, Ron and I had found out a few days earlier that because Harry's blood was used in the restoration of Voldemort, he was mortal, until he found a way to correct it.  
  
I walked up to him, vaguely aware that I was now protected with the same spell that had protected Harry all these years. Someone had died to save my life, someone who had filial love for me. I threw Voldemort onto the ground with my new powers and proceeded to choke the life out of him. He screamed with pain for my hands were also burning his neck with the love that Harry left within me.  
  
I stayed like that, with my hands around his neck long after he was dead, it was only when someone touched my shoulder gently, I realised that the attack was over and all the Death Eaters had given up without a fight, now that their master was gone. Dumbledore picked me up and carried me to his office. Remarkably, I had no injuries, not even a scratch.  
  
And so here I am. Its thirty years later, and I'm still known as the great Hermione Granger, the one who finally ridded the world of the evil Lord Voldemort. I laugh sometimes when I see comic books of myself riding in on a dragon to slay Voldemort with my wand. Laughing leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.  
  
The Weasleys have accepted me as one of their own; my parents were killed a few days after Voldemort by a group of rogue Death Eaters looking for vengeance.  
  
But I know in my heart that my boys will be back to get me soon. I can feel that day is getting nearer; I'm tired and would like to rest in the sun with the two men who made me what I am. One was the only brother I've ever had, and the other is my soul.  
  
Two young men are sitting in the midday sun by a lake, chatting nonchalantly. A girl with bushy brown hair walks up and sits beside them. "Finally!" says the boy with the flaming hair, "Feels like we've been waiting here for you forever." 


End file.
